


show me how you feel

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “How can it be personal with someone else's junk in your mouth, Ryan?”“Shut up, just shut up for a second. I never asked you to interview me, Madej.”





	show me how you feel

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i never write. unbeta'd. also this is specifically an au based on george romero's land of the dead! enjoy

“So, what's the story behind this particular.. habit?” 

Shane's voice echoes dangerously clearly through the empty hallway they've taken sanctuary in, and judging by the barely noticeable dip in volume toward the end of his sentence he realized the risk he was creating, fortunately for Ryan who didn't really feel like reminding him.

“I already explained it to you - It's my own personal form of stress-relief, alright?” Ryan shoots back, just barely fighting off a poorly timed voice crack, irritated endlessly by his companion's lack of empathy in regards to his choices. He's always been like that, questioning every move or idea Ryan executes, sometimes with a passive-aggressive air that riles Ryan up effortlessly.  
Ryan imagines that it's instinctual, for Shane to second guess every idea that isn't his own. Neither of them harbor any power above the other in terms of position, equal in every obligation except the "elite" disposal service that Ryan operates under-the-table for the big man, but that doesn't stop them from questioning the unwarranted authority they both imagine each other to have.

Shane cocks a brow, a pointed and judging arch that makes Ryan want to just get up and leave. His needs far outweigh that small in-the-moment decision, though.  
He'd think about it more deeply, but a quick once over of stupidly boiled down ultimatum is enough for him to settle with a solid answer; go outside with the flesh-eating monsters, or get laid. It's a simple thing.

“How can it be personal if you've got someone else's junk in your mouth, Ryan?”

“Shut up, just shut up for a second. I never asked you to interview me, Madej.”

Ryan will never understand how Shane always ends up saying such poorly timed, provoking things in the most inappropriate situations. Whether it be cracking a line-crossing joke too soon after the death of one of their own (it had been a rather serious debacle at the time, though now it seemed morbidly humorous. Shane still feels horrible regardless), or asking dumb fucking questions when someone is just trying to give him a blowjob, he always manages to miss the point.

Shane is already exposed and rared to go, hanging heavy a few inches from Ryan's lips, and the latter is aching for Shane to just fuck his face already.  
He grips it in his hand, revels in the feeling of it twitching against his palm. It looks ridiculously huge in his hand, and the slight burning embarrassment just furthers his arousal. So what if he's just a smidgen on the smaller side, he's deadly when he wants to be and that's that. He's had lots of time and been put in many positions that assured that. 

And not to mention, Shane happens to be a modern giant. He's proportionate. So there.

Shane doesn't return a witty, cutting reply this time. He doesn't quite have to option to, seeing as all of his focus is on the feel of Ryan's hot palm against him. The only sound that he makes is a soft sigh of relief.

“You ain't complainin' now,” Ryan chirps deviously, always one to take every chance, gain the upper hand and score an easy win, and right now that chance is blatant and accessible in the form of Shane's "conveniently timed" change of tune.

“I was never complaining?”

“Bullshit.” 

He hastily dips Shane's cock toward his mouth, runs the flat of his tongue from an inch down the underside up to the tip until he tastes precum.  
The action creates a shift in Shane's breathing pattern, one that Ryan holds onto. 

Shane curses under his breath, and Ryan has to laugh.

He fully considers it a clean, bonefide win, even if he had played a little bit dirty. Shane shoots him a vaguely annoyed look, but it's not true displeasure. There's no way it could be.  
Ryan responds with a shit eating grin.

“Cheater.”

“All's fair in friendly blowjobs and post-apocalyptic survival.”

Shane snorts at that, finally reaching one of those big hands up to card his fingers through Ryan's short hair, curling them into a grip that just laps at the threshold of pain. It sort of stings, he sort of likes it, Ryan's conscience is beginning to buzz with white noise. 

It's not a push, not really, but something about it compels Ryan to lean forward just that little bit more until he can wrap his lips around the head again. He wills himself to remember that they're safe, mostly, and that he can close his eyes if he wants to. It's a comforting thought, if a little delusional. 

He finds that his body makes the decision for him as Shane's cock sinks deeper, eyelids fluttering shut instinctively as the tip bumps his throat. He doesn't gag, he doesn't, the little stilt in his breathing is just him adjusting to it. He can handle it, damn it. 

Shane stops pushing there, leaves it up to the man on his knees to take control. As if he thinks Ryan needs to set his own special pace, like he can't handle a good throat-fucking. It's a gentlemanly gesture, but Ryan only feels insulted.

He makes a disapproving noise around the cock in the mouth, which he's sure feels much better than it sounds, while his hands find a grip in the fabric around Shane's hips. He pulls insistently, dragging the taller man's hips forward until his throat is stuffed full. He hopes Shane took the hint, because all he can focus on from that moment on is the heat in his stomach and the need to cum, so strongly that he can't even muster the strength to keep his hands up. 

They drop unceremoniously to his lap, bracketing the need tenting his jeans. 

His forearm had bumped the solid, cold end of one of his still-equipped guns on the way down, but he ignores it.

Shane pulls out just until Ryan can breathe through his mouth again, and then eases back in carefully, testing, until Ryan huffs out his nose impatiently. 

Maybe, Shane finally gets it. 

Ryan's eyes roll back behind his lids when Shane speeds up, not quite what Ryan wants it to be but noticably different from before. It's good, it's okay, he's getting there.

Every time he pushes back in, the fullness, it makes Ryan whine deep in his chest, reverberating through his throat and making Shane moan in turn. 

His hand hasn't left it's position yet, the uncontrollable tightening of his fingers still very much present in Ryan's hair, the occasional shock of pain making his dick twitch in his jeans. 

He keens around Shane just as he's starting an inward push, strangled and needy and so humiliating, but all he can think is “Good, Yes, More" and "Please". One of his palms is snug against his erection, rubbing with quick, tight movements that feel way better than they usually would. Everything feels intensified around him, the scrape of his knees against the cold ground, his jacket feels like a heavy weight keeping him down on Earth. 

Shane is shaking, Ryan can feel it distinctly against his scalp and he knows he's getting close. His thrusts stutter in places, barely distinguishable halts and the loss of rythym is the biggest indicator for him; that, and the fact that Shane is leaking precum into his mouth like a broken faucet. 

Ryan steels his resolve, attempts to gain control of himself, his motions, just enough to work his tongue against the thickest veins on the underside of Shane's cock when it sinks in. Shane curses at that, squeezes tighter and tighter around Ryan's hair, until he lets out a small sound that could be pain, or pleasure, or both. (it's both).

Shane cums.

He shoots as he's pulling out, tip just inside Ryan's lips as he works the base with his free hand. He coats the inside of Ryan's mouth with his cum at the start, though he gradually pulls back more until he can finish fully with one more spurt across Ryan's lips. It's sick, messy and disgusting and just what Ryan needed. He fights the urge to lick it off, he can't do it, not while Shane is staring down at him with that look in his eyes.

It's a mishmash of things that sum up exactly what Ryan dislikes about him, smug satisfaction and pity and expectancy. He knows what Ryan is thinking, knows his needs and wants and exactly what his brain is going to do next. 

Ryan spits on Shane's boot, with an added dry garnish -

“Nasty as hell, dude.” 

It's a filthy mix of cum and saliva, and he knows it doesn't really mean much in the grand scheme of things, knows that it'd probably take Shane noy even a full minute to wash it off - but he feels satisfied with himself for it anyways.

Well, as satisfied as he can sensibly feel with his cock throbbing against his jeans. It's hit a point where it hurts, aches for Ryan to just undo his jeans and finish himself off. It burns in his chest, and once again his body moves on it's own. 

Just as his fingers brush the button on his jeans, a hand captures his wrist. He hadn't even noticed that Shane had moved, feeling dizzy and confused and vaguely irritated as he's dragged to his feet by the larger man. 

“What the fuck, Shane?”

Shane ignores him, tugs him forward without much effort, turns and shoves him hard against the wall he'd previously been leaning against himself. He's being surprisingly rough and uncaring about it, treating Ryan more like an intruder than a man he's known and worked with years.

At least in a muted sense. He's pretty sure that if he had really been an intruder, Shane's first instinct wouldn't have been to pin him against the wall and force his thigh between his legs, spread them manually just to grind into him.  
Ryan wouldn't have ever thought about fighting it genuinely, but even with his mind disoriented and sex-fogged, he loves creating a bit of a challenge.

Shane's hand slips down his body, dragging across the fabric of his shirt like he wishes he could get to skin, until he reaches the waistband of his jeans. He undoes them with notable ease, of course he does with those long spider fingers, wastes no time in shoving his hand into the open space to grip Ryan's poor dick firmly. 

His hand is calloused from years of shitty, intense work for the big man up top, it's dry and it drags almost uncomfortably across sensitive skin, but Ryan is close to busting already.

“You're such a brat sometimes, you know that, Bergara? You push and push until you get what you want,” Shane grits out, voice as uneven as Ryan's ever heard it become; it goes straight to his dick. "You're never satisfied with anything.”

His hand never stills on Ryan, keeps pumping him sporadically even as he goes off about his peeves with Ryan's occasional attitude. His other hand is clenched hard in the bottom of Ryan's shirt, close to his hip, knuckles pressed into his skin just slightly. 

“So tell me why -” his hand speeds up, and Ryan feels his orgasm building rapidly, “- why I fucking want you so badly.”

Two things happen simultaneously. 

Shane leans down and presses a bruising, intense kiss to Ryan's already swollen lips, splintered with different contrasting emotions and so, so good, despite the disgusting texture of drying cum between them. 

And Ryan spills over into Shane's hand. 

He sees white behind his eyes, Shane's lips on his become an afterthought for a brief, blinding second.  
Shane's hand finally stills when Ryan whines into his mouth, pulling back and wiping it across Ryan's thigh as he goes. Asshole.

As soon as his lips are free again, Ryan grins and it's chock full of mischief, and maybe a little bit of something else.

“So. How bad do you want me, big guy?”

**Author's Note:**

> they dont actually hate each other lmaoo. if i had patience id sit down and do a long ass slowburn with feelings but. i dont have patience. thanks for reading


End file.
